


burning nostalgia, ocean water and dying hotel radios

by americananirvana



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Blurryface, Dark, M/M, Tysh, josh dun - Freeform, josh dun x tyler joseph, joshler - Freeform, twenty one pilots - Freeform, tyler joseph - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 21:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9787973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americananirvana/pseuds/americananirvana
Summary: they're both a little(lot) out of their minds, but they're so indestructible.or:in which josh is crazy, tyler is crazier, and life is short and sickly sweet.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [edy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/edy/gifts).



> (a gift to edy for powering the darker sides of my brain and inspiring this work.)
> 
> i saw tøp yesterday and it was the happiest i have ever been.
> 
> im writing this because i realized today that even when im out of the depths of depression, i have a incessant urge to end my life; out of pure tiredness. there are simply some things i don't want to deal with and i dont have the effort to battle through them.

it starts with josh.

 

he stands at an old haunting, a wooden playset that rots away and prickles at his fingertips with what he feels like are splinters from the years this was his to own and abandon his cares.

josh splashes gasoline all over the old swing, smiling as the toxic smell fills his nostrils and watches it bleed and darken the rough wood of the swings.

he pulls his scarf over his nose, and grins wide, cracking his dry lips and letting blood bubble painfully to the surface.

his hands tremble as he lights a match, delighting in the sound it makes as he scrapes it against the side of the matchbox.

he does it again.

and again.

and again.

 

the dead matches fall from josh's hands like flower petals and form a cementary around his feet. 

he picks them up, and lays them ornately around the base of the swing and threads them into the untwisting rope.

he places the matchbox in the exact center of the swing and steps back, admiring his work.

he gets in close, eyelevel with the 3rd base of the swing and pulls his lighter out, letting the flame dance and light his eyes before pushing it to the gasoline soaked wood with a childish giggle, and does the same to all other of the bases, and watches the flames lick their way up and down the splintered wood, and takes special delight out of setting fire to the rope that held him true some many times before.

the heat dances on his pale inked skin and the fire makes a movie in the dark of his eyes.

there are frantic footsteps, irregular and desperate, running towards him. josh closes his eyes.

he wants to imagine it as the crackling of the fire, not to a stranger with a foreign mind and stange words.

a boy enters the reach of the light with an awed look, like a child watching the moon out the car window.

there is black paint smeared on his neck and hands, and there are messy fingerprints staining his jawline and the tanned gold of his wrists and arms.

he smiles at josh, sickening sweet like bubblegum.

they draw eachother in, until they're in a tight embrace with tyler's thighs around josh's waist, both sets of glowing eyes entranced by the dying flames of josh's childhood.

when the last of his nostalgia fades into ash, josh rubs soot onto his fingers and paints a pretty picture on tyler's face.

he gives tyler a wide smile, reaching from ear to ear.

he paints his lavender stained eyelids with ash, under and around until tyler's eyes are the sun against the darkness of his skin.

 

the second time they meet, tyler's bleeding. his nails are caked with dried blood, and his white shirt is covered in black hands prints.

tyler smears his blood all round josh's eyes and around his mouth and his cigarette and calls him the prettiest thing.

the third time they meet, they're in a run down hotel room with the scratchy curtains drawn closed and the static of the radio making his vision grainy. male voices echo sentiments and songs in differen languages, scores about games and tragic news, he takes it all.

tyler has lipstick all over his mouth and his lashes are long and there are mascara marks beneath his eyes. 

tyler overtakes him with a lipstick smeared grin and josh feels nothing but crippling loneliness and a sense of being used. 

the radio crackles and rumbles the soundtrack to his downfall.

he knows that his cheeks are wet, but he can't tell whether it's from tears or blood.

 

the last time they're together, they're surrounded by water.

josh's arms are wrapped around tyler's neck as he struggles and screams for josh to let go.

josh imagines that the rolling and crashing of the ocean are the crackles of an old hotel radio.

he takes tyler's face in his hands and kisses him deeply as they sink slowly into the depths, with tyler's face frozen into terror.

josh laughs.

"it's okay, baby."

"we're indestructible."

water fills his lungs and the crackling of a radio fills his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading.  
> please,  
> stay alive.
> 
> |-/


End file.
